


The Wolf, the Man, the Myth.

by promisingahurricane



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Christmas Party, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 06:34:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7033798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/promisingahurricane/pseuds/promisingahurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sure, he was nowhere near the model-like appearance of all the supernaturals surrounding him, but he wasn’t bad-looking either.<br/>And yet, he had somehow managed to catch the interest of the beautiful enigma of a man called Derek Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wolf, the Man, the Myth.

**Author's Note:**

> Because what do you do when you still have two WIPs (one on which you haven't posted on in AGES)? Right, you write a oneshot. This one is inspired by an episode of "The Nanny". Idk the name. It's the one where Maxwell is supposed to go to CC's reunion.

Werewolves were a thing. Not a myth. A _thing_. He was sure because he had not only fought with and against some repeatedly, no, he had been fucking dating one for many months now. That ‘dating’ part seemed more of a miraculous occurrence than the existence of werewolves, and to everyone he knew, both things were equally believable. Meaning they weren’t. Especially once he told them who he was dating. Because _‘Really Stiles? Unrealistic much?’_

But Stiles had dealt with it, with all the snarky comments from acquaintances, the pitying smiles from his relatives or the dismissive pat from his father who still remembered when he had once claimed to be in a relationship with Lydia although he hadn’t been at that point. His Dad had come around eventually when he met Stiles’ boyfriend for the weekly Sunday Dinner.

Lastly, Stiles couldn’t really blame the others.

He was annoying, snarky, sarcastic and an asshole. At least he looked a little more decent now than he used to: his hair was longer, he owned clothes which actually fit, and he was leanly muscled instead of gangly. Sure, he was nowhere near the model-like appearance of all the supernaturals surrounding him, but he wasn’t bad-looking either.

And yet, he had somehow managed to catch the interest of the beautiful enigma of a man called Derek Hale. It had taken them both a while to acknowledge that there was something more between them, and a small eternity to act upon it, but finally, one night after Derek had cracked a lame joke while they cleaned up the mess the pack had left behind, Stiles had wrapped a hand around his neck and pressed a firm kiss on his lips. And with a smile, Derek had pulled him in to kiss him back.

The memory still made his stomach clench and flutter at the same time, his brain still caught up in disbelief that the man was _his_.

His fingers trembled as he passed the bottle of Jack from his left to his right hand, switching the fingers which would be exposed to the cold night air for a while. He raised the bottle to his lips and after a moment’s hesitation, he gulped down some of the burning liquid. For a brief moment it made him forget the cold that had settled in his limbs from sitting outside.

Tonight was the night he had wanted to show everyone that Derek was not the result of his admittedly very active imagination but an actual person. And everyone meant everyone that had agreed to come to the police department’s Christmas party. To Stiles, most of the people who worked there had long since become part of the family. It had added to his nervousness, because he wanted them to like Derek, to finally be happy for them like they were supposed to.

The wolf had called him in the afternoon to let him know he would run a little late, because of some appointment with another pack that had been rescheduled. That was a thing which had become rather common. Derek was a good alpha, but he needed alliances and he did it so well after he got over his grumpy self. Who could say no when a bunny toothed wolf smiled at you?

With a small sigh Stiles had assured his boyfriend it would be fine. He could endure the pity and teasing for a few hours longer if it meant he would not only get to see everyone’s surprised faces but he would also get to cuddle up next to Derek tonight.

He took another gulp and stared down the road, hoping to catch a glimpse of Derek’s sleek black car. As he was about to look away, he caught a movement. Moments later he saw the Camaro sped towards him. Stiles huffed slightly at the hilarity of speeding towards a cop party as he got up and put the bottle into the bushes next to the stairs he had been sitting on.

The car slid into a parking spot smoothly. Stiles dug his numb hand into the pocket, cocking his head while waiting for Derek to get out. After another brief moment the door opened to release his boyfriend who immediately sent him an apologetic look as he spotted him.

Stiles smiled mildly as he walked towards him.

“I’m so sorry Stiles. I never thought they’d take so long”, Derek mumbled frustrated, pushing his keys into his pocket.

“It’s fine”, he shrugged and glanced back towards the entrance.

Derek placed a hand on his cheek to get his attention back and kissed his forehead. Stiles’ eyelids fluttered shut at the soft touch. It burned more than the alcohol still in his veins.

“You’re freezing”, the man mumbled against his neck as he briefly rubbed his beard along Stiles’ jaw. He hummed in answer. It was pretty fucking cold outside.

“Why are you out here?”

Again, he shrugged.

“Just needed a breather.”

Derek cocked his head at the half truth, but didn’t bother asking, so Stiles didn’t bother answering. Instead he turned around to climb the couple of stairs, knowing Derek would follow inside now that he was finally there.

He pushed the first pair of doors open which led to a small vestibule. The heat of the room engulfed him and his fingers started to itch at the temperature change. He heard Derek’s steps falter behind him.

“Stiles?” he asked uncertainly, but Stiles didn’t hesitate.

He pushed the second pair of doors open in a grand gesture, with a big smile firmly painted on his face, and raised his voice.

“Well everyone, I want to present to you all the man who owns my heart: Derek Hale.”

He was greeted with absolute silence.

One guy peeked shyly from behind one of the speakers he was currently packing up for transport. Stiles eyes wandered through the room, over empty plates and glasses, empty chairs at empty tables. Almost an hour ago he had said goodbye to his Dad - the last person to leave.

As he turned around, he could no longer hide the bitter anger from his eyes.

Derek in turn was staring at the empty room, several emotions flitting over his face at once as he observed the scene. He opened his mouth, but stayed silent, because talking about emotions is something he still hasn’t learned, despite his newly found confidence in communication.

Stiles just shook his head and walked past the frozen figure, back out where he grabs the bottle and starts walking down the road towards his old home.

“Stiles!!”

He glanced back at Derek, devastatingly beautiful Derek, an enigma of a man. Stiles shivers as he waits. Werewolves are real. They are no myths.

Derek stays silent.

He turns and walks, his fingers clutching the liqueur tightly.

_Really Stiles?_

There are no wolves in California. _Unrealistic much?_


End file.
